Tag: doubt and hope

Pastoral Prayer, July 26, 2026

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith Development, prayer, self-care

Holy and gracious creator God, we know you are all-knowing and all-present. We also know, but keep forgetting, that you are God and we aren’t.  We all, every last one of us, fall short of your glory over and over again.  And so ever since the Garden of Eden we have been trying to play a silly game of hide and seek with you.

Many of us have been taught to fear you.  We cut our spiritual teeth on images of you as a judgmental Big Daddy who knows our every thought and action.  We have stories in our heads from Scriptures where you are bent on revenge against your enemies and sinners like us. 

And so we lie to ourselves, to others, and to you.  We project pretty pictures of ourselves as already sanctified and permanently cleansed of all our unrighteousness. But we know better, and we know you know better too.  And so we waste so much time and energy pretending to be saints when we are all sinners.  We try to hide the dark side of our nature even though the Psalmist has told us that there is nowhere, not even in hell that we can hide from your presence.

Even though you sent Jesus to teach us the truth that sets us free, we still often do not have ears to hear the good news.  It seems too good to be true that in spite of our faults and shortcomings you still love and adore us–that you still call us when we are tired and heavy laden to come and rest in the arms of your grace. 

And the wildest part is that you commission fallible human beings like us to stop hiding our lights under a bushel.  You call us, not to save the world, but to simply reflect your light into our small corner of your creation.  Your light can shine through the cracks in us if we let go and allow you to use us. Help us, O God, to share in our words and deeds the heavenly message of love, truth, and justice to the neighbors you give us.  Open our eyes to recognize our common humanity with all of your children, the oppressed and the oppressors alike.

So for now we just want to say thank you for your amazing grace, and we pray for the humility and courage to hear the Master’s voice, to come out of hiding and follow him.  And to that end we offer again the prayer he taught us to say,  

Northwest UMC, Columbus, OH

Exiles Who Dare to Dream

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, peacemaking, prayer, spiritual discipline

I have been in an increasingly deep funk lately.  It has progressed the closer we get to the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence on July 4.  I grew up a super patriotic kid, proud of my dad’s service in WWII, Eagle Scout, recipient of Scouting’s “God and Country” award, etc. 

When I was in fourth grade we had to write one of those “what do you want to be when you grow up” essays, and mine was one of several printed in the local newspaper on a very slow news day.  I had written that I wanted to be a Marine.  I’m sure my teacher and others reading that had to stifle a laugh that this runt of the litter had such delusions of grandeur. 

For the sake of brevity let’s just say that the war in Viet Nam, Kent State, my study of U.S. and world history, and our multiple misadventures in the Middle East have removed the rose-colored glasses I wore during my naïve childhood and adolescence.  And the last ten years have pushed me to the edge of cynicism and despair more times than I care to remember. 

This morning as I was reading “Braving the Truth” (a collection of essays by the late Rachel Held Evans and others) it hit me.  The words of Psalm 137 popped into my head, and I understood what I’m feeling. 

“By the rivers of Babylon—
    there we sat down, and there we wept
    when we remembered Zion.
2 On the willows there
    we hung up our harps.
3 For there our captors
    asked us for songs,
and our tormentors asked for mirth, saying,
    “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

4 How could we sing the Lord’s song
    in a foreign land?
5 If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
    let my right hand wither!”

I haven’t been taken captive and dragged off to a foreign land.  I’m still living a privileged, comfortable life right here in Ohio.  So I am not a physical exile, but my heart and soul resonate with those Israelite exiles in Babylon 2600 years ago.  The corruption, greed, injustice, and total disregard for the law and constitution we are witnessing is not from an oppressive foreign conqueror of our nation.  Those evils are being perpetrated by our own President and the wealthy elite supporters who refuse to stop him because they share his greed for power and wealth. 

Those of us who try to follow Jesus know God favors the meek, the poor, the peacemakers, and those who mourn.  We know Mary’s magnificent warning that God

“ Has brought down rulers from their thrones
    but has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things
    but has sent the rich away empty.”  (Luke 1:52-53)

We are exiles for now, and if we forget Jesus as our true ruler much more than our right hands will wither.  As people of the Book we know the rest of the story.  Those exiles in Babylon were liberated, ironically by Cyrus of Persia (modern day Iran).  The exiles and their descendants who had kept the faith returned and rebuilt Jerusalem. And their faithfulness gives us hope and strength to endure our own exile. 

So my prayer for this 250th anniversary is that of the psalmist.  Don’t let me forget the good, the ideals, and the soaring vision of Jefferson’s words.  The Declaration of Independence was never descriptive of what was in 1776 or what has been since.  The Declaration was and is aspirational, an idealistic picture of what we hope to become. We were then and are still fallible human beings continually striving to create a beloved community where all people are created equal and treated accordingly.

Inside me still is that little fourth grader who every morning repeated the dream of a nation where “liberty and justice for all” is more than a rote recitation.  It’s a goal worth striving for still, and it’s the hope this exile will remember and celebrate July 4th in the spirit of the great hymn, “Lead On O King Eternal” by Ernest Warburton Shurtleff :

“For not with swords loud clashing,
Nor roll of stirring drums;
With deeds of love and mercy,
The heavenly kingdom comes.”

You Can Make a Difference

by Steve Harsh, posted in brokenness, Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith Development, hope

Genesis 18:22-33: So the men turned from there and went toward Sodom, while Abraham remained standing before the Lord. Then Abraham came near and said, “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will you then sweep away the place and not forgive it for the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from you to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?”  And the Lord said, “If I find at Sodom fifty righteous in the city, I will forgive the whole place for their sake.” Abraham answered, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to my lord, I who am but dust and ashes.  Suppose five of the fifty righteous are lacking? Will you destroy the whole city for lack of five?” And he said, “I will not destroy it if I find forty-five there.”  Again he spoke to him, “Suppose forty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of forty I will not do it.”  Then he said, “Oh, do not let my lord be angry if I speak. Suppose thirty are found there.” He answered, “I will not do it, if I find thirty there.”  He said, “Let me take it upon myself to speak to my lord. Suppose twenty are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of twenty I will not destroy it.” Then he said, “Oh, do not let my lord be angry if I speak just once more. Suppose ten are found there.” He answered, “For the sake of ten I will not destroy it.” And the Lord went his way, when he had finished speaking to Abraham, and Abraham returned to his place.”

In these days when it feels so hopeless to to make a difference this story about the threatened destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah speaks to us about the power of each good life. Abraham bravely negotiates with God to try and spare whatever righteous people there may be in these two cities.

Disclaimer: I do not believe the God of grace I know punishes evil by inflicting destruction on individuals or whole cities, although there are times I wish it were so (as long I’m not the guilty party, of course). But that doesn’t mean there isn’t some deeper truth in the story.

For example, what if there were a few brave people had stood up to President George W. Bush in 2003 and demanded proof of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq before committing our troops to a long deadly war? Or what if a handful of founding fathers had stood firm against slavery in 1787 instead of kicking the can down the road to the deadliest war in our history 75 years later?

One child siding with another who is being bullied can stop the cruelty, and even if not both the victim and the protector feel the priceless solidarity of friendship. One or two men refusing to laugh at a sexiest or racist joke, or go along with an unethical business practice can empower others to do the same.

Those who have read Genesis know the unfortunate fate of Sodom and Gomorrah. Apparently Abraham couldn’t find even 10 righteous men, and the two cities were destroyed.

As an aside, I can’t pass on from this story about Sodom and Gomorrah without pointing out a serious misuse of this text which in some circles is used as a condemnation of homosexuality. That charge is not justified by the text and is clarified later in Ezekiel 16:49 where we find: “This was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease but did not aid the poor and needy.” That makes so much more sense because it is consistent with the constant emphasis in all the Scriptures to care for the widows and orphans, to love one’s neighbors as oneself, and Jesus’ stark admonition in Matthew 25 that “just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it me.”

How often are those same weaknesses in Sodom and Gomorrah the source of our failure to do the right thing, even when we know clearly what we should do. Excess of food and prosperous ease are symbols of comfort and privilege that we Americans should pay careful attention to. Doing what is right but unpopular is one of the hardest things to do because it puts at risk our own comfort and safety. But what we choose to do or not do does make a difference.

The familiar quote, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing” sums up much of what I’m trying to say. (My research says this quote is often attributed to Edmund Burke but may actually be a paraphrase of similar words from John Stuart Mill.

As we all know it takes courage to do the right thing when it is so much easier to go along with the crowd. My favorite quote to describe that is from “Inherit the Wind” by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee:

Attorney Drummond says to Bert Cates who is on trial for teaching evolution: “It’s the loneliest feeling in the world-to find yourself standing up when everybody else is sitting down. To have everybody look at you and say, ‘What’s the matter with him?’ I know. I know what it feels like. Walking down an empty street, listening to the sound of your own footsteps. Shutters closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against you. And you aren’t sure whether you’re walking toward something, or if you’re just walking away.”

But those acts of courage make a huge difference, just as they might have in Sodom and Gomorrah. But that is ancient history. What matters now are the moments today when we are asked to take a stand for righteousness and justice when everyone else is sitting down.

There are so many injustices it feels overwhelming to even try to pick one to address; I know it certainly does to me. But that cannot be our excuse to sit on the sidelines. For me there is also a very real fear of incurring the wrath of those in power if I speak up against them. I wrote a paper in grad school entitled “They Shoot Prophets, Don’t They?,” and the recent murders of Renee Good and Alex Pretti in Minneapolis have done nothing to lessen that fear.

I have never liked conflict of any kind; so speaking truth to power is way out of my comfort zone. But my despair over what’s happening to our democracy is stronger than my fear. I am reminded of the closing scene of Shakespeare’s “King Lear” where the bodies of all the main characters are strewn across the stage and Edgar alone is left to bring down the curtain. He says, “The weight of these sad times we must obey; say what we feel, not what we ought to say.”

Dear Creator and Sustainer of all that is good, just, and true, we are living in very sad times. Unjustified, unconstitutional war is robbing your neediest children of food and health care here at home and raining terror and destruction in the Middle East. You have called us to love our neighbors and our enemies. You have taught us that a few righteous, courageous people do make a difference. Give us courage to stand up when no one else can or will, to speak what we feel and not what the powerful tell us we ought to say. You have put a right spirit within us. Show us how we can most faithfully let that holy light shine into the darkness of this season of our lives until others join us and together our lights expose the evil around us and within us and drive it from our midst in a blaze of resurrection. Amen

Be Still and Know

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics, Faith and Values, Faith Development, Sermon, spiritual discipline

I haven’t written anything yet in 2026 because I’ve been too depressed and angry about what’s going on in our country and world to muster enough energy to think, let alone write. I knew I am not alone in those feelings, but it felt strangely comforting when I read these words this morning from one of my heroines in the faith, Nadia Bolz-Weber. Nadia wrote, “I woke up wanting to write something that might be of help right now and I’m all tapped out. I got nothing.” She shared instead some modern Beatitudes she had written 10 years ago which were helpful and worth hearing again.

Fortunately for me I agreed weeks ago to preach this Sunday at a local retirement community, and that commitment forced me to wrestle with my faith and my doubts, and here’s what the Spirit has led me to prepare for that worship service.

When I told a friend I was preaching here at 3 pm he said, “Isn’t that nap time for old folks?”  If it is for you we’ll wake you when we’re done!  And then ironically shortly thereafter I saw an interesting article about something many of us remember from childhood.  How many of you remember pulling out your rug or blanket and lying down in kindergarten while soothing music played on the record player? 

The article is called “When We Taught Children How To Rest – And Then Forgot It Mattered.”  I don’t know the author,but he or she makes some important points I want to share with you. 

“For millions of children growing up in the 1950s, ’60s, and early ’70s, this ritual was as essential to kindergarten as finger paint and the alphabet. It wasn’t filler. It wasn’t babysitting.

It was the lesson. Stillness Was Once Part of the Curriculum

Educators believed something we’ve slowly forgotten: young children need quiet.

Not just sleep—but stillness.

A pause where feelings could settle. A space where overstimulated minds could wander safely.

The science agreed. Children’s brains and nervous systems were still under construction. Rest wasn’t a reward. It wasn’t optional. It was developmental maintenance.

Then We Decided to Hurry.  By the 1970s and ’80s, something shifted.

Kindergarten stopped being about socialization and curiosity and started being about readiness.

Pre-reading. Early math. Staying on track. Getting ahead.

Schedules tightened. Testing crept younger. Parents worried about falling behind before childhood had even properly begun.  Naptime began to feel inefficient.  Unproductive.

A luxury we could no longer afford.

And we act surprised when childhood anxiety soars.  Naptime wasn’t just about sleep. It taught us that rest has value, that quiet has purpose, that you don’t have to be productive every minute to be worthy……  We once dimmed the lights, put on a record, and gave twenty small people permission to just be.  Maybe it’s time we remembered how.”

A few weeks ago when we had that lovely warm October God reminded me of that wisdom.  After worship I spent some time praying in the beautiful outdoor chapel that we have at Northwest UMC, and the words that came to me were “Be still and know that I am God.” I have meditated on those words many times in the days and weeks since, seeking the balm they offer in the chaotic world we inhabit just now.

I am embarrassed to admit that I didn’t remember where those words come from in Scripture until I googled them. They are of course in verse 10 of the Psalm we just read, and the opening verses set the scene powerfully for having faith to be still when life is literally crumbling around us.

The psalm begins with these words:

“1 God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
    though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea,”

Scholars believe those words were written as the armies of Assyria were besieging the city of Jerusalem in 701 BCE.  Many of us can relate today.  We feel under siege from bodies that are feeling the slings and arrows of the aging process.  Or that the very values we thought our country was founded on are under attack, and we feel helpless to do anything about it.

How can we not wonder if God really is our help and refuge? Where is God’s help in this all too real time of trouble?  As I typed those words originally for a blog I write, and I’m not making this up, a notification popped up on the top of my iPad screen that said “Don’t Stop Believein’!” “Don’t Stop Believin’!”  I literally looked around to see if Big Brother or someone was reading over my shoulder!  It was spooky, but even more real than the message I heard that day in the chapel that said to be still and know I’m God.

As it turns out that message was a notification on my iPad advertising that the rock band Journey who sing “Don’t Stop Believin’” is coming to do a concert in Columbus next summer, but the timing of that message seemed way too relevant to be just a coincidence.

And that is what the psalmist is saying to the besieged, hopeless folks in Jerusalem surrounded by the mighty armies of King Sennacherib of Assyria.  Don’t stop believing!

God says, be still and know I am God, which implies the rest of that sentence – I’m God and you’re not.  So trust me.  I got you out of Egypt and through the wilderness, and I’ll get you out of this mess too.  But like us the people of Israel don’t always get it.  In my imagination I can picture God, like any frustrated parent, wanting to say, “Shut up and Listen!”

Every age has its moments of siege.  “A Mighty Fortress” that we sang earlier was written based on this Psalm by Martin Luther in about 1527-29 when he was under terrible persecution from the Roman Catholic Church and the Holy Roman Empire.

After Luther refused to retract his writings, Pope Leo X issued a papal bull excommunicating him in 1521. 

Luther was summoned before the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V and the imperial assembly, where he famously refused to recant his views, leading to his condemnation. 

The Edict of Worms (also in 1521)declared Luther an outlaw, banned his writings, and made it a crime to harbor him, with punishment for heresy being burning at the stake. 

To protect him, Prince Frederick the Wise of Saxony arranged for Luther to be “kidnapped” and taken to Wartburg Castle for his safety, where he translated the New Testament into German.

Even as Luther was protected, his supporters faced severe repercussions, including loss of jobs, imprisonment, and execution, as persecution against Lutherans intensified across the Holy Roman Empire. And through all of this people sang “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” which became known as the Battle Hymn of the Reformation.

The most powerful words in that hymn for me are, “The body they may kill, God’s truth abideth still.”  That was true in 1528; it’s true today; and it will never change.  That is what it means to be still and know that God is God.  God’s in charge and will prevail in God’s good time – not ours.  And because of that we can still pull out our blankets,   put on some soothing music and sleep in the heavenly peace of innocent five-year-olds. 

Benediction:

Because of God’s ultimate rule of the whole universe, no matter how bad things seem at this or any moment, personal or in history, we can“Be still, and know that I am God!    I am exalted among the nations;    I am exalted in the earth.” The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.”  Today, tomorrow, and Forever.  Amen

Lighting the Christ Candle 2025

by Steve Harsh, posted in Advent, Christmas

[The 4 Advent candles should be lit before the service]

During the Advent season, we have waited like expectant parents for God to deliver – to show up like Amazon with the promised gifts of hope, peace, joy and love. We wait in a world that has never needed those gifts more. And God hides our gifts in plain sight, in Bethlehem, right where the prophets told us they would be. And like every year, we’re surprised, still not convinced that God’s Messiah should be born in a barn.


Tonight our waiting is rewarded, as we celebrate again the gift of unconditional love, and the marvelous ways God breaks through the darkness, and leads us to the Light of the World. God showed the shepherds and the magi the way to Bethlehem. And tonight God is showing us the Way again.


[Light the Christ candle as the next paragraph is read]


We light the Christ Candle on this holy night to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the Light of the World. He has led us here and calls us to follow him on a marvelous journey of seeking, finding, waiting, hoping, and spreading His Holy light.

Prayer: (Please join me in the prayer on the screen)


O eternal God, forgive us when we doubt that a peasant boy of low estate could possibly heal our fearful and divided world. When our skepticism threatens to overwhelm us, wrap us in the warm swaddling cloths of hope, peace, joy and love. We have waited and prayed for your Messiah. Now it’s time for us to receive the most precious gift ever. May Christ be born in us this night. Set us aglow with the light of Christ, to warm and heal broken lives and light our darkened world. In the holy name of the one we celebrate this night, Amen.

Northwest UMC, Columbus, Ohio

Fourth Sunday of Advent 2025 – Candle of Love

by Steve Harsh, posted in Advent, Christian Discipleship, Christmas, Faith and Values, spiritual discipline

In the beginning, God fell in love with creation, and pronounced it very good.  Like romantic adoration, God’s eternal love is blind to human betrayal, rebellion, and stupidity.  When God’s children ignore the prophets and break every covenant offered to us, God continues to love us like a star-struck lover.

We celebrate Advent and Christmas every year to remind us that God still so loves the whole world that He comes to share the risks and sacrifices of being a vulnerable human being. 

In the dark days of December, when wars and senseless violence dominate the news, God’s love simply grows brighter and stronger.  The Advent candles remind us that we are all created in the image of God, and the essence of our God is unbounded, unconditional love. 

So on this final Sunday of Advent, the circle of the wreath is completed.  We relight the candles of Hope, Peace, and Joy.  And today we light the Candle of Love, because the greatest of these is Love. 

[Light all four candles]

Please join me in the prayer on the screen:

O dear God, lover of our souls, we are undeserving and unworthy of your radical love.  Our souls our willing, but our flesh is weak.  Please sweep us off our feet again in your loving embrace.  Help us to share in your wild and crazy romance with this broken world.  Let these candles rekindle in us the dream of your beloved community, so we can throw open the gates of love to all of your weary, hopeless children.  Remind us once more that the Babe of Bethlehem still calls us to love one another, in the same reckless, unconditional way that you love us.  Amen

Northwest UMC, Columbus, Ohio

Advent 1, 2025 Matthew 24:36-44, BE PREPARED!

by Steve Harsh, posted in Advent, Christmas, hope, Lectionary Texts

This message for this first Sunday in Advent in Matthew’s Gospel is also the motto of the Boy Scouts – “Be prepared.” As an Eagle Scout one could assume that it would fit my life style. I wish it did, but in crisis or stressful situations I’m not at my best. When I was about 14 or 15 my Explorer Post took a canoe trip on an old abandoned canal called the Whitewater Canal in southern Indiana. The name was misleading since there was no white water there, but there was one tricky spot in the concrete remains of an old lock.

Because the current got faster as it narrowed into the lock there was a sign telling canoeists to portage around the lock. Portage means to pull over to the bank, get out, and carry your canoe around to the other side of the lock where it’s ok to put back into the water. The problem was that the portage sign was so close to the lock that there was little time, especially for inexperienced paddlers, to exit the water before being sucked into the lock. The portage sign was on a cable stretched across the water and the first reaction to seeing that sign when it was too late to portage was to grab the cable and try to stop. The problem was the person grabbing the cable stopped, but his canoe didn’t.

Some of us who made the canoe trip in the first of two groups had found out the hard way how this worked and had a good laugh as we scrambled to retrieve our runaway canoes. So, rather than being good Scouts and warning our friends in the second group about this hazard we secretly hiked down to the lock while group 2 was getting ready to set off so we could see how many of them ended up in the drink like we had. Some did, of course, and we had a good laugh until we realized that our Scoutmaster in one of the tipped canoes had gone under and not come back up. He was trapped under the current.

It was truly a life and death moment, and I was frozen in fear. I remember yelling for someone to do something, but it felt like my feet were nailed to the ground. Thank God two of my fellow Scouts did act courageously. They jumped the 8 feet from the top of the lock to the water and pulled our sputtering Scoutmaster to safety. They were both honored for their bravery, but I was not prepared to act.

In less dramatic ways I was not prepared to leave home for college and spent an entire quarter terribly homesick. I was not ready for marriage at age 21 or for parenthood 3 years later – but then who is ever really ready for that responsibility. And now in my “golden years” I am certainly not ready for the challenges of aging!

So if it’s that hard to be prepared for “normal” life events that we know are coming, what in the world can we do to be prepared for the coming of the Lord? Matthew says, “Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.” (24:44). That verse is about the second coming, but Advent is our warning that we need to be prepared not just for the celebration of Christ’s birth but for the big surprise of his dropping in again any time he feels like it.

Sorry, Lord, I don’t like surprises. I don’t even like unexpected changes to my daily routine. And my weird sense of humor suddenly turns to the lyrics from an old song by Eileen Barton:

“If I knew you were comin’ I’d’ve baked a cake, baked a cake, baked a cake

If I knew you were comin’ I’d’ve baked a cake

Howdya do, howdya do, howdya do?

Had you dropped me a letter, I’d a-hired a band, grandest band in the land

Had you dropped me a letter, I’d a-hired a band

And spread the welcome mat for you

Oh, I don’t know where you came from

’cause I don’t know where you’ve been

But it really doesn’t matter

Grab a chair and fill your platter

And dig, dig, dig right in.”

It’s like dating or meeting someone important for the first time. We can put our best foot forward and be on our best behavior when we are prepared. Even I can clean up pretty well when I am forewarned. I can even tidy up the house when I know when my wife is returning from a trip, but “at any hour you do not expect!” That’s not fair.

But timing is not really the issue. God has known when we’ve been naughty or nice long before Santa or security cameras started tracking us. And it’s not rocket science. Being prepared for Christ is like an open book test. The Book has been telling us for 2500 years what God expects to find when he/she drops in unexpectedly. “He has told you, O mortal, what is good, and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

That’s pretty straightforward, and yes, much easier said than done. But please notice that last line – humility is the way to grace and mercy. God knows all too well we all flunk at doing justice and loving kindness way more than we like. But as 1 John tells us, “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.” (1:9-10). That first part is humility, the second not so much.

And there’s another wonderful summary of being prepared for Christmas or any Christ coming. The whole Bible is a lot of stuff to digest. There’s not just 10 Commandments but hundreds in the Hebrew Scriptures/Old Testament. So Jesus boiled it all down for us. “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest? He said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 22:36-40)

Simple – love God and all your neighbors and yourself! Do that and you will be prepared. I hear you, but, Steve, how can we do that? We’re just fallible human beings after all! So, here’s the secret I’m counting on, and maybe you should too. “But Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.” (Matthew 19:26)

Be Still and Don’t Stop Believin’

by Steve Harsh, posted in brokenness, Faith and Politics, hope

A couple of Sundays ago when our Ohio October was still summerlike I spent some time in the Chapel in the Woods at our church after Sunday worship. Because of scheduling issues I attended our contemporary service that Sabbath which is not my preference. That Sunday was actually World Communion Sunday, a day that always has special meaning for me, especially in our fractured world today.

On that Sunday our church celebrated World Communion primarily at our traditional service because the contemporary service had been set aside for our annual Blessing of the Animals service. Communion was still celebrated at the contemporary service, along with treats for God’s four-footed critters that came to be blessed.

Needless to say it was a lively and noisy service, which is always fun, but it was not exactly what I needed that day. So, after worship I spent some time praying in our beautiful outdoor chapel and the words that came to me were “Be still and know that I am God.” I have meditated on those words frequently in the days since, seeking the balm they offer in the chaotic world we inhabit just now.

I am embarrassed to admit that I didn’t remember where those words come from in Scripture until I googled them. They are of course in verse 10 of a Psalm I have used dozens of times in funeral services, and the opening verses set the scene powerfully for having faith to be still when life is literally crumbling around us like the East Wing of the White House.

The psalm begins with these words:

“1 God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change,
    though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam,
    though the mountains tremble with its tumult.”

Those are the opening verses of Psalm 46 which some scholars believe was written as the armies of Assyria were besieging the city of Jerusalem in 701 BCE. Many of us can easily relate. It feels like all the values we thought our country was founded on are under siege.

I could recite a whole litany of things we’ve lost in the last 10 months, but I will focus instead on one of the most recent and egregious violations of Christian morality and Constitutional order. Because of the government shutdown SNAP benefits that help feed 42 million Americans have been cut off for the last 6 days.

There are contingency funds available to pay those food stamp benefits, and that has always been done in every other shutdown we’ve had. The only difference this time is the one who resides in what’s left of the White House.

Two federal judges have ordered the President to release those funds and provide food for hungry Americans, including the elderly and children. But Donald Trump has decided to ignore those court orders so he can use those 42 million people as political bargaining chips in the high stakes game of chicken he is playing with the democrats.

Meanwhile the President has given $40 million of our tax dollars to Argentina which hurts already desperate American farmers. He’s spent millions on unauthorized military action against Iran and Venezuela, and is threatening to do the same in Nigeria. But he refuses to even negotiate with democrats about skyrocketing health care premiums or to follow court orders and feed hungry people.

It seems useless to remind Washington about what Jesus said about feeding the least of these, although I have done so repeatedly with my three Republicans representatives in Congress. The tone deafness of this administration to calls for empathy and justice for our fellow human beings certainly feels like basic human decency is under siege.

How can we not wonder if God really is our help and refuge? Where is God’s help in this all too real time of trouble? As I typed those words, and I’m not making this up, a notification popped up on the top of my iPad screen that said “Don’t Stop Believein’!” That message came because the rock band Journey is coming to Columbus, OH next summer, but the timing of that message seemed way too relevant to be just a coincidence.

And that seems to be what the psalmist is saying to the besieged, hopeless folks in Jerusalem surrounded by the mighty armies of Sennacherib.

5 “God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved;
    God will help it when the morning dawns.
6 The nations are in an uproar; the kingdoms totter;
    he utters his voice; the earth melts.
7 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.[c] Selah

8 Come, behold the works of the Lord;
    see what desolations he has brought on the earth.
9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
    he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the shields with fire.”

And because of God’s ultimate rule of the whole universe, no matter how bad things seem at this or any moment, personal or in history, we can
10 “Be still, and know that I am God!
    I am exalted among the nations;
    I am exalted in the earth.”
11 The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our refuge.”

On Ash Wednesday last year we had an experiential worship service, and one of the things we were asked to do was create something from clay that was symbolic of the meaning of the season of Lent. I made this symbol which is still on my desk:

Some people thought it was a fish, which would be ok; but that is not what I was going for. I started out with an infinity symbol and then made one end into a heart. For me it symbolizes the only thing we can really count on and the only thing we need – God’s Infinite Love.

That ‘s what enables me at times to be still and know God’s in charge, even when the infidels are literally not only at the gates but in the seats of power.

Jerusalem was reborn from the ashes and somehow, someday the land of the free and the brave will be also. Be still and don’t stop believin’.

All Saints Prayer 2025

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Christian Discipleship, Faith Development, Gratitude, hope, prayer, spiritual discipline

As we prepare our hearts for prayer on this All Saints Sunday I want to share some words for our meditation from Linda Hogan in her book “Dwellings.” She says,

“Walking, I am listening to a deeper way. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands.”


O Holy One, God of the present age, of every generation that has enabled our being here today, and of all the multitudes who will follow in our footsteps if we find a way to a sustainable future for the creation we are a part of.

We know All Saints Day may sound pretentious because none of us are truly saintly.
We are all a weird mixture of sinner and saint striving to be more the latter as followers of Jesus and good stewards of your creation. We want to be builders of a peaceable kingdom, a beloved community, honest we do.

But you know that our fears and anxieties too often lead us to foolishly put our trust in stuff that promises security but only creates higher walls of tribal suspicion and prejudice. Bigger bombs and battleships only motivate others to make more weapons that steal resources from hungry children.

As we ponder the mysteries of how our ancestors made sense of their lives help us lovingly forgive their mistakes even as we learn from their collective wisdom.  We are grateful that we don’t have to reinvent every wheel because we are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses who bless us with their presence. We are never alone, although at times it sure feels like it.

Among those saints are those whose names we all know – Moses, Ruth, Micah, Theresa, Amos, Francis, Jesus and Paul – but those famous ones are totally outnumbered by the ordinary Joes and Judys who quietly have preserved the faith through disasters, depressions, pandemics, and ages of apathy.


Today we remember those dear ones who have passed through the thin veil that divides our reality from eternal peace and truth. We give thanks for those who dwell now in your very heart, O God. We envy their peace and unity with you, even as we humbly give thanks for their love that has produced this community of faith that nurtures us still today.


We are indebted to their example of service. We are inspired by their faith that overcame the doubts and despair that are part of the human condition. Like them we journey ever on toward the cross of Christ and the example he gives us as we join our voices with all the saints in the prayer Jesus taught us to pray ….

Northwest United Methodist Church, Columbus, Ohio, November 2, 2025

World Communion Prayer 2025

by Steve Harsh, posted in brokenness, Christian Discipleship, Faith Development, hope, peacemaking, prayer

O God of all creation, we set aside one Sunday each year as World Communion Sunday. Given the state of our battered and broken world wouldn’t it make more sense to make every Sabbath or Holy Day a time to pray for a beloved world community?

Our Christian Scriptures say you so loved this messed up world so much that you sent your own beloved son to redeem us. Why would you do that knowing how the evil forces in the world routinely kill any prophet who challenges the empire’s gospel of power and violent control by fear and intimidation?

And yet something about that impractical vision of a peaceable kingdom keeps us coming back to your table. It’s a table where we join a motley crew of humanity – those who hunger for power and the powerless who simply hunger; Israeli and Palestinian, Ukrainian and Russian, an assassin and a widow who forgives him, sworn political enemies dipping bread in the same cup, estranged family members sharing tears of joyful reunion, and those who live for revenge breaking bread with the agents of reconciliation.

We don’t understand the mystery of how ordinary broken bread can fan the tiny ember of hope still smoldering beneath an avalanche of broken dreams. Yet somehow the Holy Ruach of Your spirit blows life into a valley of dry bones and we leave the table lighter and brighter with a spring in our step we thought was gone forever.

The chaos of life has not stopped. The existential threats to freedom and the power of greed and short-sightedness threatening our planet are still as awful as ever. People are still starving in Sudan and Gaza, bombs are still dropping in Kiev, and yet the vision of humanity with all its flaws breaking bread together around one godly table stays with us and empowers us to face the future with courage and love.

Because You so loved the world we dare to also, in the name of the humble servant who calls us again and again to come eat and drink of his very essence. In His name we pray and live. Amen